User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Rise of the Hordes/@comment-1298206-20140804182436/@comment-2246928-20140806150734

Soon he comes to a thin clearing of trees, sparsely covered in grass and dominated by towering pines and oaks that reached their sprawling leaves out to the sky above them. Within the center of this clearing, a plump, graying vole and an otter sat around a campfire, roasting a salmon on a spit in silence. The otter's back was turned to the white squirrel, but Astrix, even from afar, could see the emptiness in the vole's gaze as he stared into the crackling fire. He had lost something dear.